


So Close

by simonbananaao3



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Funeral, Gen, Hospital, Last wish, Love, Memories, True Love, reader x bucky - Freeform, so much love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9118111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simonbananaao3/pseuds/simonbananaao3
Summary: You are dying. You have already accepted this. Your last wish is to see Bucky one last time. Just once.





	

**Author's Note:**

> wow, I have not posted in a while. something larger coming soon I promise

As the air escaped your restless, fluid-filled lungs, you tried to imagine a life without all of this. You believed in a paradise. Somewhere. Out there. Not here. Not in this bland hospital bed. You were stuck in a world where the only thing you felt was pain and the only thing you saw was lights and pills. You thought that out of all the pills you were taking at least some of them had to work, but none of them did.

Your diagnosis was simple.

Pneumonia.

It’s not like your immune system couldn’t handle it. It was just fine. In fact, it was fighting harder than ever, but it was losing that fight.

Why?

The mirror across the room, facing you, showed the true lifelessness of your figure. Your pale skin shined bright under the light of your lamp. The navy veins, pierced by needles, stuck out like ink on paper. Your lips, dry as the heat in your fevers, broke, spewing forth sobs and held back emotions. You never let the nurses see you cry. You never let your parents see you cry. You never let you see yourself cry. You shielded your face from the mirror. You wanted to scream at that piece of reflective glass. In fact, you did.

“Stop looking at me! Go away! Just fucking die already!” You screamed with all the power you could force out of your brittle body.

The little fluid you had left in your body was now being expended as tears. You could barely see through them. You closed them to force the water out. Finally, you dropped your head and fell asleep, the tears drying on your parched skin.

**-**

You woke up at 7 pm. Your nurse, Marina, came to make her rounds. It was a usual thing. She had to do it constantly.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Like I’m dying.”

Her usual bright smile faded into a melancholy expression. She took a deep breath.

“Yeah, thought so,” she said as she fastened the cuff around your arm.

“No moving, talking, or eating while I do this test,” she said firmly.

“I know the drill.”

You and she waited for the results. 90/60. Barely passing.

“Well, at least that's not hypotension,” she said trying to lighten the situation.

“Or hypertension.”

“Hypertension would be considered a miracle in your case,” she said jokingly.

You laughed a little, trying not to rouse up your lungs. It was too late, and you were coughing for what felt like a century.

Once your lungs finally decided to calm down, Marina sat on your bed to accompany you.

“Is there anything I can get you? Besides more pills,” she said sweetly.

Your mind raced. You had no idea what you wanted. You closed your eyes and searched your memories. All you saw was him. You saw him in the park. You saw him on the roller coaster. You saw him putting cotton candy in your mouth. You felt the taste of sweet, pink fluff. He smiled at you. You had never felt so in love. You felt it. He felt it. Everyone in that park felt it. And what they felt was simple. It was the most feared word in the human language. It was the most meaningful word in all tongues. You used it wisely. You had to; you don’t just say it.

Love.

“So what can I get you?”

You snapped back. Marina was still staring at you, obviously not in a hurry to check on her other patients.

“No. You don’t have to get me anything,” you said.

She began to get up.

“But,” you said as she stopped moving, “you can get me someone.”

**-**

It was three in the morning. You were wide awake. You looked around at the walls. The ceiling had a small but noticeable crack in it. Marina would be coming in any minute now to check on you.

She came around three minutes later than her usual time of 3 am sharp.

“You’re late,” you said forcing a smile.

She laughed and sat on your bed again.

“I made some calls. We got Bucky for you.”

You felt as though the sickness had been lifted. You smiled with more muscle than before. Your heart beat faster.

“Really? You did? When can I see him?” you asked eagerly.

“Tomorrow. But he wants you to see him,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we have to go to him.”

You sank back into your original state. Your original state was hopelessness.

“I can’t go anywhere like this. I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I’m too weak.”

“Do you want to see Bucky?”

You think about the time at the amusement park again. You think of his bright smile. You think of how he held your hand on the roller coaster when you were about to drop. You remembered you screaming and him holding your hand even harder. You wanted to feel his touch one last time.

“Of course I want to see him.”

“Then we’re going.”

“Wait, you’re coming with me?” you asked, surprised that her boss would allow this sort of thing.

“Would you want anyone else pushing your wheelchair?”

“Not really,” you admitted.

“Exactly,” she said with a sweet laugh.

There was a pause. It wasn’t awkward, it was actually quite pleasant. You thought of him and the memories you had made, and the memories you will make. When you see him again.

**-**

The morning had come. It was here. He was here. You couldn’t keep still as you waited in your wheelchair. You had dressed yourself with your new found strength this morning. Let’s just say you looked much better this way than in a hospital gown. Marina walked into the room, not wearing her usual nurse uniform which must have meant she got the day off.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked as if you were a puppy about to go for a walk.

You nodded with a smile that she seemed to enjoy seeing. She wheeled you out of your room. It had been the first time in months that you had seen the outside of your room. You missed it at first, but then you were distracted by your aching body. She wheeled you all the way out of the hospital to where a car was waiting for the both of you. The driver had to help you into the seat. Once you were finally situated, Marina sat in the seat next to you, and you eagerly waited to see him again.

**-**

They had arrived. Only this wasn’t a restaurant. It wasn’t a bar. It definitely wasn’t an amusement park. You got out of the car and you were put into your chair. You looked around and realized what this might have been. All along. When Marina wheeled you to a shiny stone in the middle of a field with other shiny stones, you knew.

The stone before you read:

 _James Buchanan Barnes_  
_1981-2016_

_Loved by all._

You sat there motionless. Nothing moved but the wind. You knew that in some perfect world he was still alive. Maybe in your paradise. You laughed at the stone in front of you. You laughed because you knew that no matter who was dead, what you had could never be broken. You laughed and smiled and looked at the words on the stone once more. Those laughs turned into sobs, the smiles, frowns. You cupped your face in your hands. Marina was standing around ten feet behind you. She was silently producing small tears as well. The cries came and suddenly you were alone. He wasn’t there anymore. His face didn’t light up when he saw you. His eyes didn’t sparkle like fireworks anymore. He was a stone with words carved into it. Meaningless. Dead. Solid. Gone.

You looked up from your hands and glared at the grave. The stone stared back. Suddenly, you lunged forward out of your chair and onto the ground. Marina ran to help you.

“No. Let me just feel him one more time,” you said, fighting your own body as you tried to move forward. You crawled to the stone and hugged the ground, trying to find any sign of him.

And there you were. It was early in the day. The birds had started their songs not too long ago. The mail hadn’t been delivered yet. The scent of breakfast still filled the air. And there you were. Clutching the earth, fearing death but wanting to die at the same time. You couldn’t even remember your sickness. You had no idea you would be dead in a month. But there you were. And there you’d stay until the birds stopped singing.

**-**

It was three in the morning. Marina wasn’t late. She came not as a nurse, but as a friend. She was on your bed again which you liked. It reminded you of when Bucky would lay next to you and just talk. You wouldn’t cuddle or anything, but the feeling of him next to you was enough.

“I’m sorry,” she said abruptly, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“No. It’s better that I know,” you said as you turned to look at her, “Trust me.”

There was a silence.

“How did he die?” you asked, not knowing whether or not you wanted to know.

“Car crash. About a day after your diagnosis.”

“Was he drunk?”

“No. He was in perfect health.” That hurt you more than if Bucky had been under the influence. At least he would have gone out painless if he was drunk. You closed your eyes and tried to forget about the stone. Your hands were still dirty from the ground of the cemetery. You stayed on the ground for hours trying to feel Bucky. It hurt so much that he was so close but so far. He was if feet under, but a thousand years away at the same time.

“There’s a reason I took you there.”

You looked at her, interested.

“Well, I wanted you to see Bucky of course, but I wanted to give you something. I was gonna give it to you at his grave, but then you freaked out so I thought it wasn’t the best time.”

“What is it?”

She handed you an envelope. It looked old and worn out. It practically begged you to open it. Inside was a piece of paper that said something about rights and then there was a piece of red paper. It said ‘open me’ in Bucky’s handwriting. You opened the letter carefully to make sure you didn’t damage the contents. Inside was a note, handwritten by him. The handwriting was his usual chicken scratch and it made you feel warm reading it.

 _Just wanted us to be together._  
_I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again._  
_I’m with you ’til the end of the line._  
_Maybe even further._  
_I love you._

You read the note many times. Again and again. You felt completed. You could hear Bucky reading this to you in his tenor voice. You grabbed the other paper from the envelope and read that too.

“What does it say?” Marina asked.

“It means,” you paused. Tears started to well up in your eyelids.

“It means we’ll be together.”

**\- A Month Later -**

Marina stood in the middle of the cemetery. She did not cry. She did not weep. She was a strong, brave girl. She looked at your grave. It was a beautifully carved stone. The fresh ground above your casket still hadn’t settled. The funeral had just finished. Marina looked down at your grave. Most left flowers. Many left nothing and simply paid their respects. Marina bent down and placed a small photograph of Bucky on the stone. It just happened to be your favorite picture of him. She kissed her hand and patted the stone as a final goodbye to you. She walked to Bucky’s grave and left a photo of you smiling your biggest, laughing your hardest. She kissed his grave as well.

She got up and walked away but then turned back to see their stones.

Both of them stood right next to each other, only two feet apart. Marina smiled at them knowing for sure that you and Bucky are together.

Together, at last, your spirits set free at last.

Fade to white.


End file.
